


Embers

by EllaMariexoxo



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Broken Engagement, Broken Families, Broken Promises, F/M, Gen, SOLDIER - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 03:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16508609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaMariexoxo/pseuds/EllaMariexoxo
Summary: Roy and Riza deal with the ultimate loss.





	1. Burning

"Sir?"

They were long past formalities but some old habits never die. He gazed up from his desk, his eyes looking towards the familiar voice. It should have been a comfort to him that they were in this together, but it only deepened his guilt.

"I just need a minute." He answered simply, afraid to explain why he wanted to delay the inevitable.

She eyed him suspiciously; words could have so many different meanings. Instead of arguing she nodded curtly and left him alone, falling into subordination as if it were still her job. They were both creatures of habit and burying a loved one was all too familiar.

He stared at the watch in front of him with the alchemist symbol; such power and so much damn pain. The military had been a way to make something of himself in a world where his options had been limited. Now in the wake of loss he pondered if it had been worth it.

The military had given him a hard line to walk, a mindset that wasn't meant to be challenged. It was kill or be killed. Veteran soldiers knew the orders of killing turned even the most gentle hearted into hyper aroused fighting machines, ready to snap at the sound of an order. There had been times, some not as far away as he pretended, where the sound of gunshots and the hair-raising screams of agony woke him at night. To be honest there were many nights where he just sat awake, reliving every nightmare as if it were real enough to touch. No one walked away from war unscathed; yet they had taken it for granted that invisible wounds still needed to be healed. The military nurtured a hungry monster that ripped its way free as you fought on the lines. The trouble was caging it away when you returned to your life, when you returned home.

Feeling tired and aged beyond his years, he rose from his chair, fighting the urge to slam the offending watch and all its atrocities against the wall. They were the cause of this fresh wound; they were the last straw in a series of terrible events. How befitting and utterly cruel that the very hands that had once been begged to scar his wife's back, to stop the horror, were the same ones that had passed it on.

Riza was waiting for him as promised and with one look he could see the excruciating time and effort she had put into pressing her old uniform. She was beautiful as ever, but something had been robbed from her and it seemed so obvious he could hardly stand to look at her. By the same token he wondered how she could look at him and not think about what was now lost. The faint lines of gray in her blonde hair reminded him that they weren't two officers anymore, they were aging humans who had outrun everything but time.

He had thought he understood the Elric brothers desire to bring back the dead when his best friend was killed and nearly Riza. How easy would it have been to trade his life for theirs, to give everything away so that they might breath again. No rational thought could prevail when faced with  _this_  death and the pain on her face when he returned home alone. They had been prepared to lose one another; prepared to take a fall they had thought would have come sooner. But this…no one should ever have to prepare to lose something of this magnitude.

The service was short and both he and his wife gave brief statements for their loss, none of which could even begin to make amends. Atonement was no longer an option for either of them. From that moment on they would spend the rest of their lives trying to figure out how they could have stopped him, what they would have done differently. Roy would be forever haunted by the look on his sons face as he returned from the front, the glorified reports of his flames only dead bodies in his son's eyes. If he had only talked to him then, made him see sense.

The traditional flag covered the casket and he pushed aside the urge to tear it off. His son wouldn't have wanted it there, not after what he had been forced to do, the killing machine they had turned him into. The men in uniform greeted them with respectful words of condolence and notes of character towards their deceased son. He nodded and shook hands because after burying his 19 year old son, he didn't know what came next. Riza leaned against him and he settled his arm around her shaking shoulders. Misery was their constant companion and for the first time since he had found the remains of his son, he couldn't help but wish he had the strength to end this.

Maes Mustang was being honored as a brave young soldier, the son of a national hero and the conqueror of a war. No one looked at the broken man who left with his head held high in his parent's footsteps only to return with the pieces of himself no longer fitting together. Like his namesake, he was gone before his time.

The night was dark as he sat with Riza in their empty house, void of what used to be a family. He knew without a doubt she was running herself ragged thinking that her strict upbringing had brought this upon him, had forced him into the service. While he mourned over the hours he had spent teaching his son the secret to a fire that would eventually take his life. And when he thought of all the lives he had taken in the Ishvalan war he thought of the children and how their parents felt.

Riza's hand ghosted over his. "Stay with me."

Roy held on tightly, sure that if it weren't for her watching his back he would have found that gun of hers too comforting. It occurred to him that he would have done it a long time ago if it weren't for her. His son's decision was one he had almost made. How had he not recognized it? How had he not seen the turmoil in his sons eyes and the self hatred that had forced him to turn on himself?

He thought of all the soldiers that never came home. With just one glance at Riza he recognized the dead look, the missing faith and the broken heart. No one liked to talk about what had happened to soldiers like Maes, no one wanted to talk about the suicides that took place long after the war had ended. It was a hollow pain, a source of suffering that would shadow them like the guilt on their conscience.

They might not have gone to war this time, but it was still there. Their love had brought them back in the past, but was it enough to bring them through this? The secret of the deadly flame would die with them as it should have a generation ago and in the end it would be the two them. Locked in misery, forced to relive their nightmares, new and old until at last death would release them.


	2. Ash

You think about it on nights when the house is too quiet; when the eyes of those who know follow you too closely as if you were a ticking time bomb. Some days are better than others but these days you'll settle for anything that doesn't border on manic depressive. You count backwards in your head as if the simple reversal of numbers could really take you back, but it doesn't and you stand there thinking how utterly stupid you were for believing that it ever could.

There's something squirming around in your stomach, clenching at your throat but you don't cry, not yet. Instead you just stand there pretending that if you hold still long enough this all just might go away.

Their faces sadden, and their hands reach for your shoulders but no words or touch could comfort this pain because your seething with anger and so much of this indescribable pain because you trusted him. You trusted him to not take the easy way out, to think for half a minute that maybe your two worlds had been so inexplicably entangled that if he should leave you would be forced to follow. No. Instead they ended it; they ended their suffering where yours now begins. This newfound animosity is cheating you out of sadness and robbing you of the right to satisfy your grief. They had a choice you repeat like a dying mantra, they had a choice and they chose wrong.

So what does that make them? Worse, what has it made you?

The chills rack over your skin as the hair stands on end, are they watching this? Do they see your dilemma and feel regret or do they revel in the undeniable knowledge that their life had meant something to someone. Death is final and while the emotions swirl inside you with a sea of indecision you come to the realization that you could never do it. You could never truly end your life with those sort of feelings in your heart. He has forced you to face a future without him and it has ruined every dream and wish you'd had since they first let you hold him in your arms. Now you must go on living because you have the responsibility of living for the both of you. For doing the things you promised you would see him through with, for making sure this deadly sickness dies inside your veins and no one else's.

He will be the last to live with the power of fire in their hands because without the rare cooling touch of her hand in yours, you know you too would have snapped.


	3. Cracking

Roy stared across the room at the young girl and almost had to look away. The way those golden eyes pierced right through him made him uncomfortable. Sara would not find the love or comfort she deserved here. There was no cure for broken hearts and disappointed dreams. His eyes flickered to the engagement ring she was absentmindedly twirling on her left hand.

His wife wasn't home at the moment and Roy felt awkward sitting across the room from his former subordinate's daughter. Offering her tea seemed the appropriate thing to do, even if he'd rather have a glass of scotch.

Sara Elric politely accepted and while she made small talk he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Her visits were routine and despite the stagnant air, Roy knew things were changing. Fullmetal had called and asked about his daughter's visits, no doubt weary of his intentions. To be honest, Roy wasn't sure he knew. It was a case study which he was observing with the upmost scrutiny; why this beautiful young girl was still wearing a ring his dead son had put on her finger one year ago was top of that list. And yet a part of him, however small and selfish, wanted her to mourn his son for all eternity. Maybe studying Sara was his answer to the question he had asked himself a thousand times.

After what felt like an eternity she seemed to pick up on his exhaustion and mentioned something about it getting late. As she pushed the bangs from her face, Roy could see the strength it took to love his son and how that same strength was still being tested.

"I guess I should be going, I can be back tomorrow, I'm sorry I missed Mrs. Mustang."

There was no doubt she would come over, such a dutiful creature to keep them company during the anniversary of their son's death.

It was clear she was leaving, but her feet stayed planted, those golden eyes glued on him. Looking weary she took a step in his direction. Hands trembling she grabbed his hand and Roy felt himself freeze. It was the cold touch of metal in his palm that pulled him out of the fog. Tears were streaming down her face. "Take it." She whispered. "Please."

When she fled the room Roy didn't watch her go, instead he stared at the ring in his hand. Looking at it closely Roy decided he didn't want it either. They were all carrying it, the dead weight of his love or maybe the heavier weight of their own.

Setting the ring down on the table he studied it in much the same fashion he had Sara. How did it exist when Maes did not? It seemed foreign, a years' worth of pain still not sinking deep enough to bind him to the tragedy of it all.

When Riza came home she took the ring and put it in a drawer where it remained out of sight. A simple compartment for a broken promise.

Riza finally broke the silence. "She deserves to be happy again."

Neither of them commented on the idea that maybe they did too.


	4. Extinguish

The Hawk's eyes trained on the target, her breath slowly released and then the pull of the trigger. Riza closed her eyes and added the man to the list of nameless men who would only become numbers in her head. This was war; this was survival.

When she inhaled the man lying on the ground was Maes Mustang and Riza knew she had killed her son.

"Riza?"

Opening her eyes brought Riza back to the present. Sometimes it felt like time was slowing down and all the while she almost wished it would speed up.

"You were twitching."

Her husband had that weary look in his eyes, the one that made him appear old with age. Riza doubted she woke him from his sleep; the man never slept anymore.

"It's nothing." Flipping onto her side, Riza chewed on the inside of her cheek and began to decompress in her own self loathing way.

Roy's hands were at her back, fingers tracing burned edges and what was left of her past. His voice was low, the edges almost hoarse with sleep that would not come. "I feel it too."

Of course he did; that's why it hurt too much to look at him.

When his arms wrapped around her body Riza could feel his chest shaking and knew he was crying. Breath in, exhale, shoot. Breath in, exhale, shoot. Riza gasped and whimpered because when the first sobs came she knew it would be a long time before they stopped.


	5. Ignite

Roy tried to remember the last time he saw that look on his wifes face. It was long enough that he had to really pry through the unkept corners of his mind for an answer. She extended the bundle in her arms and Roy flinched at the unspoken request. The tiny human let out a puff of air that sounded like the frailest of sighs. This was all wrong and it wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind. Instead he accepted the baby and let the guilt sink, like its weight, down against his chest.

There was a tightness in his throat and he wondered if age had also brought down his walls. “Why?” he asked, hearing his own voice crack. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Why would you name him Roy?”

Elicia cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Why would I name him anything else?”

 _Because your son should be named after his grandfather, not the man who lived on in his place._ The thought was heavy and he almost wrenched it out to avoid feeling it at all. Maes had been the name of her father and the name of his deceased son. They had both been so important to this world and yet neither lived to see it. Maybe it was for the best that no one take on the responsibility that came with a name like that. His son had once remarked of the constant comparison that came with a great man's name. He had also remarked that he would never be good enough to deserve it. _Never good enough_. Had he ever told Maes he was good enough?

He slowly handed the small child back to its mother and put a hand over his eyes.

“You are my family.” She insisted softly. "And now that I've named my son after you, I suppose you will have to stick around to make sure he lives up to the legacy."

Roy kept his chin to his chest, afraid to meet her eyes as the emotion overwhelmed him. He had spent so much time blaming himself for everything that he wondered how anyone could want him around. This was a olive branch to their suffering and he would rather leave it unanswered. There was too much pain to even contemplate a happier future.

“I haven't forgotten what you've done for me over the years. Everything from my school tuition to walking me down the aisle. I've been told my father was a great man, but I grew up under another. It is an honor to have my son named after you." 

"I don't know what to say." He exchanged a look with his wife but found a rare but genuine smile on her face.

Elicia smiled, "You don't have to say anything, just be there."

Be there. How nice would it be if Maes was just there. Maes Hughes to meet his first grandchild and Maes Mustang to celebrate their close family of friends. 

 


End file.
